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During a dark, rainy, raw dawn hike I could hear the approaching cacophony of honking. It got louder and louder but I could not see even one of the geese, even as they flew directly over me. All I could do was stare up into the rain and blink as the raindrops hit my eyeballs.
There is nothing that skyrockets the pulse upward than hearing the crack (sometimes explosion) of a huge tree in the act of falling while in the woods. It’s also a situation in which my inner guidance system takes over and I either stand still, run this way or that way. So far the inner navigator has worked well. Not so well at dodging bird poop however.
I am terribly bothered by people who BEEP from behind the moment a red light turns green. As a matter of fact there are people everywhere in life who BEEP from behind - not just at red lights Seems like “God grant me the serenity to accept...” is the only way around this situation.
Of course the birds in this picture know nothing about the pandemic. Yet nature has a mysterious way of presenting itself that can tickle our minds into thinking about our struggles and problems. There is much to be thought about in this picture as we are just one day away from Thanksgiving and many families will be separated as they give thanks. Happy Thanksgiving Eve everyone. 🦃
“Why do worms come out of the ground when it rains?”, I asked myself as I was slogging through heavy morning rain in the dark. I Googled it and there are a number of theories, but still there is some mystery there. Then I Googled, “Why do I come out in rain to hike?” The response was, “That’s a good question. Why do you?”
A number of years ago I found inspiration in the tough, grittiness of urban areas, especially the not so wonderful areas. In the decay and “falling downness” I saw struggle and resilience. Urban photography was my passion. Now I marvel at the resilience and “tough as nailness” of nature in all its forms. Most humans are so fragile and pampered. What I see in the woods absolutely humbles me. It makes me thankful on this Thanksgiving Day 2020.
On my morning hikes I often hear an owl begin to hoot just before the sunrise. It’s like he’s telling night to go to sleep and the day to wake up. Just like a rooster. The sound moves from haunting to hooray as the sun peeks over the hills. It’s such a wonderful time of day
